


Sleepover Secrets

by Kitty September (KittyAug)



Series: Harry Potter - Fests & Prompts [15]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Exhibitionism, F/F, Hogwarts Inter-House Unity, Post-War, Scars, Semi-Public Sex, Sleepovers, Truth or Dare, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-19
Updated: 2018-01-19
Packaged: 2019-03-06 19:33:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13418163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittyAug/pseuds/Kitty%20September
Summary: An all girl 8th year unity party takes a turn for the better for Pansy when certain secrets are revealed.





	Sleepover Secrets

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lash_larue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lash_larue/gifts).



> Endless love and devotion to RQ for the amazingly helpful beta work (as always). This fic is a much more sensual read thanks to her input, and all remaining issues and errors are my own.
> 
> This is a very late re-posting of my [2017 Femmefest](https://femmefest.livejournal.com/105350.html) fic.

Inter-house unity was complete and utter bollocks: just an endless series of opportunities for simpering and sucking up by self-righteous Gryffindors and mindless Hufflepuffs. Pansy couldn't stand it. If she had any choice she’d avoid the monthly events like Dragonpox. She didn't have any choice though, so her opinion was irrelevant – both on this matter and every other, these days.  
  
Pansy sulked in the corner of the garish nightmare that was the Gryffindork common room. She should have been sucking up and working the room but it was all a bit much and a bit useless, so she allowed herself this one small act of rebellion. Even the other Slytherins didn't pay much attention to Pansy these days, so it was probably safe.   
  
This month’s event was a common room sleepover. The students had been split by gender, as if that might stop horny teenagers from getting up to mischief, with the girls in the Gryffindor tower and the boys taking over Hufflepuff. How tawdry. The mind healers had waffled on about breaking down barriers of secrecy and building on shared experiences. Ravenclaw and Slytherin were up to host next month and Pansy found it hard to care even a little bit.  
  
Pansy sighed and, irritated when no one listened, transfigured a cushion into a mattress and laid out her bedcovers. She conjured some additional pillows and wondered if it would be noticeably rude to read a magazine while the other girls made awkward small talk.  
  
"Oh, good idea Parkinson! I'm doing the same," said a husky yet melodic voice from above.   
  
Pansy shivered. It was the werewolf. The new one. Lavender Brown. With her blonde hair and her caramel skin and her scars that Pansy wanted to lick. Damn it. Lavender seemed to have decided that not only was she stealing Pansy's idea and transfiguring her cushions into an actual mattress, she was doing so right next to Pansy. That wasn't fair at all! How was Pansy meant to be good with pure temptation not two feet away?  
  
Pansy hadn't been charged during the Death Eater trials last summer, but she was on probation just as much as Draco, Theo and Greg, even if it wasn't official. Maybe more so. She may not have actually done anything illegal, she hadn't been tried and it may not be formalised, but people watched her every move just waiting for her to stumble so they could meet out some retribution for her apparent transgressions. Making an unwanted pass at a Gryffindor probably counted as an executable offence in this crowd.  
  
Pansy had noticed Lavender in the past, of course. Who wouldn't? Blonde and pure-blooded with perfect nails and excellent tailoring despite an unfortunate penchant for the colour pink. When the opportunity arose, Pansy had done a lot more than notice. They had been passing acquaintances throughout their school years despite their house loyalties, having gone to the same wizarding preparatory school. At some point in fifth year they had even been a bit more than that, when neither had another more pressing attachment. It had been fun: the sort of thing that made her heart flutter but didn't hold her attention overly long.  
  
Pansy had never thought their flirtation would come to anything more than the occasional kiss behind the Quidditch sheds. Before the war Lavender had seemed simpering, weak, and somewhat insipid in public. She refused the power and status her background had given her; not the sort of thing that generally got Pansy's knickers wet for long. With her insubstantial fortune and her Gryffindor sensibilities, Lavender had been a poor prospect indeed. Pansy was practical. She hadn't let herself get attached. But all that had changed around the same time that the whole damn world did.  
  
Lavender came out of the war changed, they all had, but Lavender had come out the other side as everything Pansy had ever wanted – right when Pansy lost any chance of ever having anything she wanted again. She tried to pretend it didn't matter.   
  
The new, wolf-bitten Lavender was something truly special. She used to be pretty, but now she was spectacular. She practically glowed with power; how could she be anything but beautiful? The ragged scars on her face, which she refused to cover with a Glamour, took her from pretty to utterly captivating. Her refusal to bend, her refusal to hide, was as terrifying as it was captivating. Pansy was entranced and it made her feel sick.  
  
"I like your new wand holster," Lavender said. Pansy wasn't sure where the werewolf was going with this line of conversation, it seemed almost convivial, but playing along was the only choice she ever had these days.  
  
"Thanks," she said. It was rather fine, that was true, but an odd thing to comment on. Just a little bit more awkward than Pansy expected war heroes to be. Pansy removed it carefully, taking her time with each delicate golden buckle. It was cherry leather, strapped to her left forearm, and trimmed with tiny pearl clusters. Wand holsters were the fashion, and Pansy had always been fashionable – her mother's indulgence ensured she stayed that way. Lately, Pansy's mother had been trying to soothe Pansy's imagined grief at her father's demise with expensive gifts. Pansy wasn't grieving for the wretched man whose name she wore and blood she carried, but she wasn't about to tell her mother that.   
  
There were a few moments too many of silence, so Pansy made the mistake of looking up. Lavender was looking at her. Watching her with curious intensity that made her feel a bit like prey. Lavender was named after her eyes, a lilac colour that you simply didn't get in muggle bloodlines, and shot with amber. Pansy couldn't breathe; she might be drowning in violet and gold.  
  
"The colour suits you," said Lavender.   
  
Pansy didn't understand what she meant at first. Was she saying that Lavender's eyes suited Pansy? That seemed silly. And it was, of course. She meant the stupid wand holster. She was speaking softly, as if there was some intimacy between them still, despite the room full of women around them. As thought this conversation meant something, and Pansy felt lost. She didn't like it. Her fingers kept catching on the final buckle, the one under her elbow.  
  
"Let me," Lavender said, in that honey and wine whisper.  
  
Pansy, apparently being a secret Hufflepuff, let her. She held out her arm and let the werewolf touch her, ever so inconsequentially, as she undid the final buckle and freed the contraption from Pansy's arm. Lavender smiled, flashing a few too many teeth, and handed back the accessory with a tiny flourish. Pansy, despite herself, smiled back.  
  
The party wore on around them and Pansy ignored the people ignoring her. Lavender kept trying to include her, dragging her into conversations and asking her opinion. She kept treating Pansy like she mattered again and it made her want to cry with frustration.  
  
Things got even worse when someone suggested truth or dare. Lavender grinned at the suggestion in a way that could only be described as wolfish. Pansy's heart stuttered in her chest, then a Ravenclaw girl produced the vial of Veritaserum and it could only go downhill from there. Granger, of course, looked scandalised. Lavender, meanwhile, looked thrilled. Pansy just wrapped her duvet closer around her shoulders and tried to fade into the background like a House-elf.  
  
The first few rounds were harmless enough but someone had smuggled in a few bottles of sweet cherry wine and they were all getting tipsy as the night progressed. It was bound to get out of hand sooner, rather than later. Magic sparked in the air; even without the Veritaserum a game of that sort could be binding between witches.  
  
Tracey was the first Slytherin to get picked.   
  
There was panic in Tracey's eyes but it could have been worse. She was sent on a mission to the currently empty Gryffindor boys’ dorms. She returned a few moments later with a pair of red pants decorated with golden snitches, and even Pansy giggled. Tracey spun.  
  
It landed on Granger. Tracey had never been one for politics but the green of her school tie made her a threat nonetheless.  
  
"Truth or dare?" Tracey said, sounding far more tentative than normal.  
  
Granger tilted her chin in that annoying way of hers, then said: "Truth." Loud and clear. A challenge if Pansy ever heard one, and Tracey heard it too.  
  
"Alright Granger. You ever kissed another girl?" asked Tracey.  
  
"No," said Granger, but her smile was oddly secretive. Pansy didn't really care.  
  
Granger spun the bottle and landed on the Gryffindor Patil. Parvati took a dare and ended up having to do her make-up blind. It was almost hilarious, apart from being completely lame.  
  
Parvati got Lavender. Pansy kind of cared.  
  
"Okay, Lav, have  _you_  ever kissed a girl?" She smirked like she already knew all the answers. She was Lavender's best friend so surely she did. Pansy refused to blush.  
  
Then, because Gryffindors have no subtlety, Lavender glanced at Pansy before blushing enough for both of them, then smirked just enough to twist something hot inside Pansy's lungs. "Yes."   
  
Pansy sighed. The other girls giggled and squealed and Granger gave Pansy a shrewd look. Of course she did.  
  
It got worse from there. Hannah Abbott told the room all about her rather sickening exploits with Neville Longbottom, of all people. A Ravenclaw revealed a frankly horrifying crush on Professor Snape. Abbott got dared to take off her top and play the rest of the game in her practical but Hufflepuff coloured sports bra. Granger disappointingly revealed that she had never so much as snogged Potter.  
  
Pansy almost didn't notice when the bottle landed on her.  
  
It was Granger again.   
  
"Dare," said Pansy, quick as her house mascot. She didn't need to think about that shrewd look from earlier to know that she didn't want to risk truth with this crowd. It might be alright for a Gryffindor golden girl to reveal a lesbian fling but Pansy wasn't confident of the same reaction if she confirmed it had been with her.  
  
"Snog Lavender," said Granger. Who knew heroes could be so devious? From the gasps around the room, nobody had.  
  
Pansy blinked and forced her mouth to close. Maybe truth would have been safer. Maybe this was a kind of truth anyway.  
  
"Hermione!" Lavender gasped.   
  
Pansy tried not to bristle at the implicit rejection. She'd thought they were finding common ground again. Maybe Pansy really should have been a Hufflepuff. Her knuckles turned white, twisted in the pale pink satin of her duvet cover and barely holding onto her composure through sheer force of will.  
  
"Are you saying you don't want to, Lavender?" Granger seemed guileless but there was something else underlying her words. What did she know?  
  
"Of course I want to," Lavender snapped, Veritaserum still lacing her words with truth and startling Pansy out of her confusion.  
  
"You do?" Pansy asked, despite herself, putting her weaknesses on show in the most mortifying of ways.  
  
Lavender looked at her and nodded, silent until the potion forced her to say another whispered "yes."  
  
"Right then," said Pansy. She moved more decisively that she felt. She crawled across their two connected and pink-dressed mattresses until she was mere inches from Lavender's warm silken skin. Right in her face.  
  
Pansy took a moment to breathe. Lavender smelled like lily of the valley and honey figs. She smelled like skin and flesh and blood. She smelled like temptation.  
  
Lavender moved first. She always had to. Their lips touched softly at first, the lightest brush of contact. It felt like coming home. Lavender's lips were soft and strong, and the new twist of her scars on one side just felt like bliss. Pansy heard herself moan and didn't care when Lavender's arm came around her waist. Lavender pulled her closer, pulled their bodies flush and the soft swell of Lavender's breasts against her own made Pansy’s skin hot and her mouth open. The kiss turned filthy in seconds. Lavender's tongue was just as clever as it had ever been.  
  
Pansy found her hands tangled in the floral flannelette of Lavender's pyjamas. She could feel Lavender's heartbeat shuddering under her hands so she gripped the fabric tighter, rolled her hips and bit Lavender's lower lip, sharp and swift. Lavender whimpered and kissed her back even harder. She took over the kiss and Pansy surrendered. One of Lavender's hands was under her top, long nails digging into Pansy's delicate skin. There was a strange thrill of triumph at the feeling of too-long talons against her flesh. Lavender hadn't had short nails since their fling in fifth year and Pansy liked knowing she might still be the only one to earn that honour. She even let herself consider this might be the start of earning it again.  
  
"Wow," said someone in the background.  
  
Reality tumbled back in and Lavender and Pansy sprang apart, both breathing heavily. Lavender's eyes were slightly glazed and her lips were swollen. Pansy wanted more than anything to kiss her again.  
  
Wow was right.   
  
When Pansy returned to her own mattress, Lavender's hand came with her, hidden under the covers. Pansy tried not to give anything away, but the feeling of Lavender's fingers tangled with her own made it hard not to smile.  
  
Pansy wasn't sure when she started to drift into sleep, Lavender’s hand still in hers. It must have been some time after Cho Chang told a lewd story about an unnamed but obvious Triwizard Champion which made Pansy gag, and after someone dared Padma Patil to streak, but before the end of the game itself.  
  
She woke up a while later, drowsy and confused, to the feeling of another warm body in her bed and soft lips by her ear.  _Werewolf!_ , her survival instincts screamed at her, but her heart was pounding for a very different reason.  
  
"You fell asleep in a room full of Gryffindors," Lavender whispered, her soft breath caressing Pansy's skin.  
  
She rolled over so she was facing Lavender. They really were very, very close.  
  
"I was holding hands with a werewolf," Pansy replied quietly. "I didn't think they'd dare to try anything."  
  
"What if I tried something?" Lavender's tone was husky again, dark and tempting.  
  
"What if I want you to?"  
  
Lavender's intake of breath was audible; a tiny sign that she was just as surprised as Pansy by the possibilities unfolding between them.  
  
"You have no idea how good you smell," Lavender said, her voice as smooth as her breath was hot on Pansy's neck.  
  
At that point, Pansy stopped listening to the words and started paying attention to what Lavender was saying with her hands instead. Hands which crept down Pansy's sides, catching and tangling in the satin of her nightgown until Lavender found the flesh of her thighs. Lavender had touched Pansy there only once before. Things hadn't progressed much further and then stupid Draco had asked Pansy to that stupid ball and everything had spiraled out of control. She’d regretted it ever since. The memory of Lavender's hesitant touch had kept Pansy warm through many dark nights, and now the reality was about to burn her alive.   
  
Lavender was most certainly picking up where they’d left off all those years prior, and she was doing so with a new confidence that made Pansy let her, even though she ought to know better. Even though they were in a room full of other girls. None of it mattered when Lavender's fingers traced so delicately up her thigh, reaching and then,  _yes_ , touching the silk of Pansy's knickers, so tempting and so promising that Pansy gasped.  
  
"Shh," Lavender whispered against the back of Pansy's neck. Then she licked the curled edge of Pansy's ear and Pansy whimpered, in spite of or perhaps just  _to_  spite the warning. Pansy Parkinson wasn't anyone's dirty secret, no matter how improper it made her.  
  
Lavender's fingers rubbed Pansy's clit through the silk, skilled and demanding, so good that Pansy couldn’t even begin to wonder where her werewolf had learned to touch a woman with such purpose.   
  
"Is this okay?" Lavender asked, voice almost inaudible.  
  
Pansy would have laughed if it wouldn't have woken the sleeping girls surrounding them. It was so much better than okay. She bit her lip and nodded, not trusting her voice with so many people sleeping so close; not trusting herself not to break this. Lavender must have seen or felt her assent because she shifted, pressing in ever closer and kissing Pansy's neck as her dexterous fingers started stroking her in earnest. Pansy forced herself, with some effort, to keep breathing.  
  
She pressed back, moving as much as she dared and trying to keep Lavender's fingers in contact while also trying to feel more of the soft body pressed warm and wonderful against her back. Lavender held her close with one arm while the other teased ever more intense shudders of pleasure from Pansy's body.  
  
Lavender's thigh slipped between Pansy's legs, pushing up and giving her something to really feel. Pansy held on, clenching down and rolling her hips into Lavender's fingers and holding onto the last fragments of reality. Knowing they could be caught at any moment just made every exquisite touch, every aching breath, all the more erotic. It was like fire in her limbs, burning away everything but the need in her loins. Something smouldered in her belly; she knew she was close.  
  
Two things happened at once, and Pansy wasn't sure which pushed her to the ecstatic edge of her orgasm. Through the haze of pleasure, she heard someone whisper on the other side of the room, making the possibility of discovery all the more real. The fact that Lavender was willing to risk being discovered like this, with  _Pansy_  of all people, was utterly intoxicating. At the same time, Lavender stifled her own gasping moan and pressed her nose into the crook of Pansy's neck, curling her fingers, tight and possessive, into the silk of Pansy's nightie. It was all too much. Pansy had to bite her lip again as her climax shuddered through her, arching her back, her whole body overcome with pleasure.  
  
The result was to reduce Pansy to a shivering, blissful mess, tangled in transfigured sheets and Lavender's arms. Lavender giggled softly and pulled Pansy closer. Her knickers were still on, sticky and catching on her over sensitive skin every time she moved. She couldn’t find it in herself to mind.   
  
"I can't believe we did that," whispered Lavender.  
  
"We?" Pansy challenged her, as quietly as she could. "I just lay there, you're the one with a terrible dose of exibitionism."  
  
"Maybe I am." Lavender was smirking. Even in the predawn darkness, Pansy could tell. "I think you like me that way."  
  
"Maybe I do," Pansy admitted. Then she rolled over and kissed her, open-mouthed and honest. Talking could wait; Pansy knew the best way to distract a Gryffindor. "Let's see if you can stay as quiet as I did." The dare seemed to work, even if the game was over.  
  
Lavender obviously liked the idea. She kissed Pansy, hard, masking her moan of desire in Pansy's mouth. Pansy's hands were already mapping out Lavender's tender curves; her fingers itched for werewolf skin and she was pretty sure Lavender was going to let her.  _This must be what winning feels like_ , Pansy realised as Lavender let her closer. Let her touch as much as she liked. She'd never felt so free as she did stifling every sound in someone else's common room.  
  
Pansy slid her hand beneath the waistband of Lavender's pyjamas and found her naked underneath. She let her fingers tangle for a moment in the soft curls then quickly reached lower, finding Lavender slippery and wanting. Merlin, that felt good. The slick folds of blessedly soft skin felt almost as blissful as when Lavender's hands were on her. They still were of course, but holding her hips this time, pulling her in. As though Lavender didn't want to let go, as if there was some risk of Pansy running away. It was ridiculous and glorious all at once. Pansy could see Lavender's face, a mask of pleasure with her eyes falling closed as Pansy touched her.  
  
Pansy's fingers slipped deeper, sliding over Lavender's swollen clit. She tested out a few movements, gently, based on what Lavender had done to her and what she liked herself. When she tried tiny swirling circles, each one rewarded her with another stifled gasp of pleasure from Lavender. She felt each breath Lavender took, felt it in her bones, a reflection of Lavender's pleasure thrilling through her.   
  
It didn't take long at all, which was even more gratifying. Lavender's fingernails dug into Pansy's skin, not quite claws but a heady hint of the power which lay within those lovely limbs. Lavender's mouth fell open; her glossy lips parted on a silent yelp as she came, her whole body shuddering in Pansy's arms. And that, right there, was real triumph.   
  
Afterwards, they kissed, warm and sated. Then Lavender finally opened her eyes and pulled away, just an inch but an inch too far. Pansy watched her, trying not to show the fear she felt now the demands of their flesh had been fulfilled.   
  
"Next time," Lavender whispered to her, "we're doing that somewhere I can really make you scream."  
  
The 'next time' as much as the deviousness in Lavender's voice made Pansy feel a warm rush of desire. A breath of affection she wouldn't normally allow.  
  
"How about tomorrow night?" Pansy said, risking everything and nothing all at once.  
  
The way Lavender's face seemed to light up the darkness around them was worth it.  
  
"I'd like that," Lavender agreed. "How about the Slytherin Quidditch stands, for old time's sake?"  
  
"There's a game on!" Pansy hissed, not sure if she was more impressed or aghast.  
  
"We're witches, Pansy. I'm sure we'll think of something."  
  
Then Lavender kissed away Pansy’s doubts before she had time to argue. Lavender's warm skin and panting kisses were pretty persuasive all on their own. Pansy was sure she’d lost that argument, but she didn't really care. Maybe inter-house unity wasn't so bad, after all. Not when Lavender Brown was quite so good with her tongue.


End file.
